I Give You Leaves

It makes you sad
To see fragile things
With brief histories.

Perhaps it reminds you
Of us,
Our struggle and pain,

The beginnings
Of autumn,
Ruin and loss,
And the need
To re-build again.

So instead,
I give
A handful
Of leaves,
Scraps of words,
A harvest
Of dreams…

Take them
Wax them
And place them
In your book
Of memory

For we are the ruins
Of summer
Scattered
Upon the breeze

Colorful notes
Of mystery
Hidden
In the bitter
Seed of trees.